


The ghosts of our minds

by shaardom



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, M/M, Psychological Drama, Pynch Secret Santa 2017, kinda gore ? some of it at least idk, merry christmas !, otherwise it's fine really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13116990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaardom/pseuds/shaardom
Summary: The end of the year is a synonym of both end and renewal. Following the concept of catharsis(noun // a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension),Maura suggests that Adam and Ronan use the dreamer's ability help them face their fears, conscious or not.Ronan is drugged for safety. He has to complete every trial before waking up. Adam vows to stick around until they're done. But Ronan is not alone interfering with dreams, and who knows what they are truly afraid of, for themselves or each other...





	The ghosts of our minds

**Author's Note:**

> Summary is a bit of context/ introduction to this so I suggest that you read it.
> 
> But first off : merry christmas to sleeping-in-moondust ! Your prompts were very interesting and I hope you'll enjoy reading how they turned out !

"What are you afraid of ?"

Adam winced. "I guess we'll see."

Ronan offered his hand and they walked into the illusion Cabeswater created. The limit between worlds is thinner— or so Maura said. It was time for some cathartic action— again, Blue's mother had suggested it. He didn't ask Ronan what his fears were despite the danger of heading in the dark while not knowing. Ronan whistled, almost startling him. A set of paper lantern were aligned to oblivion.

"What ?" Adam asked.

"A haunted house. Cabeswater sure worked itself out."

Adam didn't remember going in a haunted house. Ronan wouldn't have chosen that shape to visit their fears. Both wondered where the forest got this idea.

"A movie, maybe."

Ronan nodded at the suggestion. They took a moment to look at the elegant structure. It was very quiet. A human silhouette came to a window and stared. Adam paled a bit. Ronan recognized the shape of Robert Parrish.

"We're not being separated, are we ?"

Ronan squeezed his hand.

"I hope not."

That happens sometimes, in haunted houses. People are split up to be scared more easily, though they are supposed to reunite at some point. Adam didn't know how he'll survive that, if it happens.

"I wonder how many stages it has."

Adam didn't reply. It seemed like a lot, even if each floor is bigger than a regular one. Plus, they have to go through each floor twice. One for the ascent, another for the descent.

"You do not have to, Parrish."

Adam let out a nervous laugh. He could turn back, yes. But Ronan had to go. Maura had drugged him to make sure that he does not bring anything back and he will only wake up once their fears have dissolved behind them.

"You do, though."

"Yes."

Ronan nudged his cheek. Adam got a hold of himself and they started walking. He apologized for asking stressful questions. The sky was black until Ronan willed some stars into it. There was still no moon so they had to watch their steps. The paper lanterns' light didn't reach the ground. If they weren't holding hands, Ronan wouldn't know Adam was there. It was like walking in a bucket of paint.

At some point, the intricate roots changed into creaking old wood and rich carpets. Neither did they hear the door opening, nor did they hear it close. The candle projected shadows on the walls. They didn't try to understand the shapes.

"Which way ?" Ronan asked.

They could take the main stairs, a door to the right or a corridor to the left. A shadow slid behind him, then through his body with a loud shriek. Ronan tumbled forward with a quiet gasp. Adam prevented him to fall.

"Ronan—"

"I'm good."

Ronan sound annoyed at best. He breathed deeply, attempting to ease the feeling that his insides were all over the place. Adam examined the three options. They could circle the main floor instead of going up and down.

"I wonder if we're supposed to go into every room or if there's a way not to."

The slowly advanced to the center of the crossroad.

"I'll follow your lead," Ronan said. "You're smarter."

"You're the most powerful," Adam opposed. "That's even."

"Which way, Parrish ?"

"Left."

The walked past the empty coat rack. Ronan grabbed the candle. It was halfway eaten by fire, but they could use some light. Or fire, Adam pointed out.

Or fire, Ronan agreed.

Severed heads were hanging from the ceiling. They had to push them to keep moving forward. Some were sticky, other were not. Classical horror, Ronan said. One tried to bite Adam as they were halfway through the corridor. Ronan burned the rope holding it up and it fell with a disgusting sound.

"Excelsior," he muttered as Adam started staring.

"It's Noah."

"What ?"

It was Noah's features, Noah's hair holding onto the rope, Noah's head hanging from the ceiling, beheaded a dozen of times though he had only died twice.

"Hurry."

They walked faster. It was impossible to run with so many obstacles around. The mouths moved, murmuring a word over and over until they were shouting it.

Murdered.

Ronan answered once, remembered. But it wasn't Noah who didn't have peace. Noah's mouth kept moving until it wasn't Noah's mouth anymore. Adam abruptly stopped walking to face Whelk, who he had left to die. Who he had killed, maybe.

"Adam, let's go."

From murdered, the word changed to murderer. The litany was loud and clear. Murderer. Adam finally surrendered to Ronan pulling him forward and they exited the narrow space. The door shut itself behind them, muffling the chorus.

"Never fucking do that again."

"I'm sorry."

Ronan couldn't figure what part of Adam's fears have been materialized. Whelk ? Or being a murderer ? After the waiting room was the dining room. A small table had been set. The party was over, it seems.

"Is it the Barns ?"

Ronan set the candle down. It is. The door to the kitchen was ajar. He could see the sunset orange tones reflected on every surface.

"Nice."

"Who controls that ?"

"Me, you, a bit of everyone. It's that permeable limit thing."

"Let's finish this and move on."

Ronan replaced the teapot he was examining on the tray and led the way in the kitchen. The sound of cutlery on the floor startled him. The window couldn't open, yet a gust of wind had thrown most items off the table. He looked over his shoulder. A spoon was still swinging on the floor but Adam was gone.

The window in the kitchen showed the Barns' driveway. The colors were as unnerving now as they have been gentle a moment ago. Ronan didn't know how to get there before Adam. His hands were bloody before there was a crack on the window. He didn't witness the murder back then, he still isn't able to right now.

 

Adam opened his eyes under the orange sky. He was conscious for a fleeting second, enough to understand that he was not playing his own role and see the iron tire coming to smash his ribs. He saw the Gray Man hitting him and held his breath. It didn't hurt. At some point, the scenery changed, smoothly transitioning to a known and hated background. It wasn't the Gray Man, but his own father. The Barns downgraded to the trailer. Now, it hurt.

He wished Ronan came and also the opposite. He covered his face and rolled to the side. The belt caught his left hand. His father pulled him up and Adam saw his own features, deformed by an irrational hatred. He was older. The wife had disappeared. At first, he thought Cabeswater didn't know what will happen in his future private life and it was a relief. Until his wish was granted and Ronan came.

"Adam ?"

His voice was clear yet trembling. The massacre of Adam's body followed him, bits of bones and muscle mixed together by the relentless beating instead of his father's. The worms, the flies. He had started taking them down before realizing that Adam didn't die, that Cabeswater would never kill him.

Older Adam dropped his younger, terrified self and slowly turned to Ronan. Adam crawled behind the illusion as it started to walk, too febrile to stand, too restless to sit back and watch.

"Ronan !"

He shouted as his older self slapped Ronan's cheek hard. Ronan was less surprised than Adam expected him to. Even worse— he simply took the blow.

"Adam—"

"Leave."

Adam shook his head, still unable to stand. That was their conjoined fear, not overcoming their past and mutual rejection. Ronan was clearly hurt. Adam couldn't talk, as if his voice had been taken. The nightmare of resembling his father and hurting Ronan after that were draining him.

"I'm staying," Ronan opposed.

"You're so bad at this."

Adam reached for Ronan's hand. An invisible force shoved him back through junk and old newspapers, before they touched. Ronan listened, looking at the perfect replica of Adam's eyes. His perception of it changed along with the perception he had of Adam. Adam did not know that this is the most usual occurence to Ronan. He dreamt of Adam, and the boy — or the man — was never happy to be there.

"I'm trying."

"You're failing. Like you failed to save Noah or even graduate from high school "

Adam let out a surprised gasp upon hearing his own voice. It dripped venom, bit Ronan to the bone. He willed himself to move and used the wall to stand on his wobbly legs while older Adam shoved Ronan backwards. Again, the lack of reaction was frightening.

Adam pushed himself off the wall and tried to quietly advance towards them. Ronan can't talk the illusion out of it, there is no peaceful ending for this stage. If he ever reaches this state, there will be no coming back.

The whole trailer shook as Ronan was thrown against a paper thin wall. Cabeswater or not, it's Adam. He didn't want to hurt him, he feared hurting him. Adam fell on his knees with an outraged cry.

"Ronan, don't let it— don't let me hurt you. I will, you know I will."

He knew. If he couldn't take older Adam down himself, he could buy them some time to let Adam get out or get to him, whatever he'll decide. Older Adam and him rolled on the trashed floor. Ronan struggled not to let him wrap his hands around his throat. Meanwhile, Adam grabbed an empty glass bottle and smashed it against the window. It didn't break at the first attempt.

Ronan kicked and lashed wildly. He could break Older Adam's jaw or rip his eyeballs but wished to avoid the gore on the too familiar features. Meanwhile, the hands secured their grip around his throat. Adam tossed him the broken bottle. Ronan caught it and stabbed Older Adam's stomach.

He was too close to miss the pained grunting, to escape the blood dripping on him. The chokehold was weakened, then disappeared as the body slumped on him. Ronan coughed. Adam pulled, he pushed and he was freed from the lifeless corpse.

They exited the trailer and sat on the grass, exhausted by this strange encounter.

"I can't fight back," Ronan slowly said.

"Because you have zero will to live."

"I'm dead serious. I can't fight you back."

"You'll never have to."

Or so he hoped. Adam thought— wished that it could never be him. That he'd never want to harm Ronan, that he'd never resent him so badly that hatred fuels him. Ronan closed his eyes. He didn't renew his death wish since his request to die have been denied. Or maybe he isn't meant to commit suicide. Maybe Lynch men are to be killed. He hoped the curse will spare Matthew.

"I am not afraid to die from your hands," he told Adam.

"And I'm fucking terrified of murdering you. That's two attempts now."

"The demon doesn't count. And that was a vivid illusion Cabeswater created—"

"It's never me," Adam snapped. "But still my hands around your throat. My voice begging you to fight back because I'm too damn weak to win against myself."

Ronan wordlessly hugged him.

"I am not that person," Adam said, voice heavy with tears. "I do not want to kill. I only let him die because he had killed Noah. He would have killed us too."

He held Adam a bit tighter then released him. They have to keep going.

"What do you think is left ?"

"We haven't seen night horrors yet." Adam winced.

They realized that it didn't matter where they went because Cabeswater seemed to push things their way. They exited the trailer park and followed the road to Henrietta. It was nighttime. There was more background noise. Clocks ticking, doors closing and opening, something screeching above them. They end up in a vast decorated ballroom. The color red was a dominant of the palette. In the middle, a large silhouette stood, draped in black.

Ronan reached out for the floating cape and yanked it off, revealing a night horror. It had too many beaks and not enough feathers. There were more around them, blocking all exits, forming an oppressing circle. Ronan was torn away from Adam. They were three around Ronan : two to hold him, and one to make him bleed.

He clenched his teeth while the claws dug in his arm, recreating the wound he had inflicted upon himself years ago. His blood dripped on the floor, real blood from a wound inflicted by a dream creature.

There was a choice to make between holding Ronan's bloody hand or letting him stand on his bad hearing side. Adam decided that he preferred blood.

"Why can it hurt you ?"

"It hurt you, too."

"I'm not bleeding."

"Thank God."

Ronan exhaled sharply, remembering how vivid the illusions are. He had seen Adam beaten to an almost unrecognizable mess, his flesh lying where his father's had, years ago. He could never unsee that.

The stairs changed to a tilted floor. They missed the exact moment when it happened.

"I'm going to trip and roll all the way down," Ronan muttered.

"Be quiet," Adam said. "If we can't go fast, we have to go unnoticed."

It's very likely that either of them will trip if they start running. Adam knows that blood made Ronan's hand too slippery and that they won't keep holding onto each other of that happens. He prayed it didn't.

There were more night horrors above them. They rested in nests, by pair or trios. Their wings covered them in their sleep, like tents of feathers. Ronan chose to breathe slowly instead of holding his breath for an undefined period of time. Their descent dragged on. They could see the monsters breathing, too, if they stilled long enough to look. Being quiet with the threat above their heads frayed their nerves and made the descent feel way too long. Plus, a welcome committee awaited them downstairs.

Ronan heard Adam's surprised gasp and mechanically tried to hold him back. Adam still fell on his hands after missing a step. The sound of his knees hitting the floor was made enormous by the forceful silence they have kept until then. Adam remained on the floor for a couple of seconds. Nothing moved.

"Dragon."

Ronan looked in front of them and he saw. The mythological creature was also asleep. Ronan helped Adam on his feet. The threat is the person controlling the dragon.

"Adam, you did your part," Ronan whispered in his good ear. "I've got to finish this on my own."

"How do you know there's nothing left after that ?"

"We went all the way down. Wake up. I'll join you later."

"No !"

"Lynch !"

They froze, as if being caught doing something indecent. The voice echoed through the hall. If their angry whispers didn't wake the wild animals, this sure will.

"Not so loud, you dumb fuck," Ronan hissed.

Not while Adam is still around. Kavinsky laughed. He was not being louder but didn't make an effort to be quiet either.

"Adam." Ronan would beg if that was enough to make his lover more compliant. "It's going to get real bad."

Firstly, because of the imminent attack of the awaken night horrors, secondly, because Kavinsky had means to produce fire and thirdly, because Ronan had no idea how to handle the two first points.

"I made a deal with this place," Adam opposed. "I'm its hands, and these hands will never harm you."

Ronan didn't have the time to explain for the umpteenth time that Cabeswater was slightly altered by everyone unconsciously interfering— especially dead people. That some were pure scenes taken from their minds but that Kavinsky was both himself and an artefact from his subconscious mind. Adam briefly let go of his hand to wipe the blood and sweat on his jeans. Just a second. He had let go of Ronan for a fleeting second and that had been enough to create a gap impossible to cross.

"Surgere illum."

 

Adam jerked awake in Blue's living room, which had been cleared for the ceremony. Maura stepped back.

Adam was stunned. He stood and turned to look at Ronan. Seeing him dream is a layered sight. Staring too long will give him headaches but he is unable to tear his eyes from what he knows to be a raging war. He should be fighting, too. 

"Why..."

"You did your part," Maura answered.

"No, I didn't."

"Not until leaving."

Ronan is ultimately terrified of having to fight alone, like back in the days. It couldn't play out with Adam. They would have been stuck forever.

"He might die !"

"Blue will be pleased, then."

Adam didn't know what to answer to that. He was too annoyed to understand the humor. Maura sighed and stood up.

"Can I leave it to you ?"

Adam nodded.  
\---

"Is it like last time, your crows against mine ?"

Ronan didn't answer. He didn't know what to do with his balled up fists, which is a first in a fight situation. Kavinsky isn't who he was before being blown away by his own dragon. It's pointless.

"What's with the face, Lynch ?" Kavinsky laughed. "You'll be like me soon enough. Nothing gold can last."

Ronan is partly human. His strange genealogical tree gave him that. He knows that he'll eventually age and die without quite realizing how time stretches and shrinks, like most people his age.

"That makes sense."

He doesn't know where the humanity in his blood comes from, neither does he know where the dreams are from. His father keeps the key to these riddles out of reach, for now.

"It doesn't have to be that hard," Kavinsky said. "Nothing is real. So walk through the damned door and let me make a mess of what's left."

As he finished talking, the dragon stood. It crushed the ceiling and bits of cement fell around them. Kavinsky had stopped minding Ronan, focused on the upcoming destruction. The night horrors clawed at the rough scale on the dragon's neck. They were a swarm of black, angered bees around him. Finally, it pulled his head from the ceiling hole, breaking it more and sent a blazing fire on their way. The wooden railing was caught in flames. A heavy smoke hid the anthropomorphic birds' most recognizable body parts. Ronan walked past his old nemesis, aware that Kavinsky may burn a thousand times but he'll still return to haunt him.  
\---

"He let you go ?"

"No." Ronan shook his head to add some emphasis on the point he was making. "He never does."

The fear never does. It will be back before next year, like the severed head of a hydra. Adam pursed his lips.

"I showered twice and I still feel the slime on my shoulders."

Ronan tentatively rubbed his back. He still felt the slap on his cheek, Older Adam's weight on suffocating him and the blood that could have been Adam's, _his_ Adam's blood. It was a hardcore experience. Maura had instructed Blue to stuff them with tea and dark chocolate. Blue had told them where the teapot was and also not to open the cupboards. They had not moved from the couch since. Adam shivered. Maybe there is a reason why Maura made tea.

"Ronan, you've got to promise that if I ever willingly raise my hand upon you, you'll leave." Ronan didn't answer, so Adam kept talking. "That you'll get the fuck out."

"I'll stay," Ronan opposed. "I'll help you get your shit together but you're so good at keeping it that I doubt it'll ever happen."

Adam doesn't even hit him when he deserves it. Ronan does not understand why he should be worrying.

"I'm terrified," Adam said, "even though we're awake."

"You know better, Parrish." Ronan pulled him on his lap. He started by shaping his bony hips, then his hands climbed on Adam's side. The thinnest layer of fat had started to reform between the skin and the ribs. "Adam," Ronan corrected.

Adam bowed his head, as to acknowledge his surname and didn't look up again. Ronan kissed his forehead, then the beginning of his nose and the tip, attempting to get him to raise his chin. Their lips touched. Adam's hands were cold on his stomach. His own hands were still climbing, following Adam's heartbeat.

They aren't making out on Maura's couch because it's rude. But Adam is still sitting on his lap with his legs open; theirs hands are quickly warming up against the other's skin; it would be embarrassing if someone walked on them and they're about to stop making sense, so Ronan hurries his thoughts to turn into words.

"You never let anyone or anything dictate your life. Why surrender now, to the lowest of all— fear ?"

**Author's Note:**

> _Surgere illum : wake up / wake him up._


End file.
